


Never Have I Ever

by isitandwonder



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, PWP, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/pseuds/isitandwonder
Summary: Timmy tops.Usual RPF disclaimer: I don't know these people, this is a work of ficiton, nothing featured in this story happened for real.





	Never Have I Ever

“Have you ever?” Armie asks.

“Have I ever what?” Timmy’s not looking up from his phone, scrolling through some newsfeed.

“You know…”

“No, I don’t.” He’s finally raising his eyes, frowning a little exasperated.

Armie wiggles his eyebrows and grins.

“I bet you have.”

Timmy sighs. “Listen, it’s been a long day, I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m not in the mood for… this.” Timmy makes a little impatient gesture with his hand not clutching his phone. His long, slender, delicate hand…

Armie stares at it, at those bony fingers curling, blinks rapidly and swallows.

“Have you ever been fucked?”

Timmy nearly drops his phone.

“What kind of question is that, man?” He sounds shocked, hurt, incredulous but Armie ploughs on anyway, now that he’s started.

“Hey, we have to do that… play that… over the next days and I just wondered, you now… I don’t want to get the logistics wrong or something.”

“Are you now going all method or what, Armie Hammer?” There’s something in Timmy’s voice that hits too close to home, addressing Armie’s deepest fears of being just a fraud, not good enough, not up to this kid who outacts him in every scene despite being almost ten years his junior.

“Forget I asked.” He’s closing in, raising those walls again that he’d carefully let down over the past weeks.

But now it's Timmy who doesn't let go. “Why do you think...? I mean, hey, there's Google or gay porn or whatever. Why do you ask me this?” Timmy's angry now, Armie can tell, the way his shoulders hunch and his jaw clenches, his beautiful open face drawn tight.

“Sorry, I just thought... you being so frank and outgoing... all of this doesn't seem to faze you in the slightest.” Armie leans back into the sofa cushions.

“Why would it? It's acting. Those are just love scenes. Scenes. We play. It's a challenge but... it's nothing I fear or anything.”

“Well, I do.” Shit! Now he's admitted it.

Timmy is suddenly quiet and looks at him rather shrewdly. “Really?”

No use to deny it. “Really.”

Timmy puts his phone down onto the low coffee table in the shabby apartment he stays in while in Italy. Armie's just down the corridor but they crashed here after returning from set, grabbing a beer and just relaxing before going out for dinner later.

“Why?” Timmy asks, his voice a little softer than before.

Armie just looks around, his eyes meandering everywhere but over to Timmy, who's gazing at him all curious and a little sardonic. He needs a moment to collect himself.

“You know I've played gay before...,” he starts and Timmy snorts.

“You snogged Leonardo for fucks sake.”

Armie has to smile a little. “Yes, among others, I snogged Leonardo.” He finally dares to look Timmy in the eye.

“Among others?”

“Just making out. Experimenting. A bit.” Armie squirms on the couch. He can feel his face heating up.

“A bit? Armie Hammer, does your mother know?” It's meant as a joke, Armie can tell, but it doesn't feel like one to him.

“Of course, she doesn't!”

Timmy jumps a little at Armie's outburst.

“Apologies.”

They fall silent for a moment but it's not awkward, it's somehow companionable.

It's Armie who starts to speak first. “That's why I thought I’d ask you. I mean, I dunno how much experience you have but I somehow get the vibe that you... know. About things. There’s really no one else I can ask.”

Timmy shrugs. “You could ask Luca.”

They both laugh. “Yeah, great, let’s tell my director that I’ve no clue what I’m doing but as he’s a faggot himself he might be able to help me out here.”

Timmy blushes deeply at the swear word, wrapping his arms around himself. “I probably wouldn’t put it to him like that.” His brows are drawn together as he rocks forward, a bleak expression passing over his face.

“Figure of speech, sorry.” Armie apologises and mentally kicks himself for his insensitivity. The silence stretches again between them, this time more intense. Armie steals sideway glances at Timmy who seems to be far away, staring down at his bony naked feet on the tiles, his mouth slightly agape. 

“Hey.” Armie scoots a little closer and wraps one arm around Timmy’s shoulder, his large hand curling around the knobbly swell of Timmy’s shoulder joint. Timmy seems to have come to a conclusion as he's kind of resurfacing at Armie’s touch.

“This is ridiculous, man. Come here.” Timmy leans over and just kisses him on the mouth, hard and wet, his tongue pushing insistently between Armie’s lips until he opens. Timmy licks inside him, sucking on his tongue before very gently biting his lower lip. Armie can't help himself, he moans, low and lewdly. As Timmy finally releases him, Armie swears he's swooning like a blushing virgin. “No big deal. Where's the problem? I do it with my friends all the time.” Timmy grins.

“I don't. That's why I asked.” Armie feels a little breathless.

Timmy tilts his head and reaches out for him, cupping his cheek, his thumb stroking the golden stubble covering Armie's jaw. “You think I'm gay.” It's a quiet statement.

Armie’s totally disarmed, overwhelmed by Timmy’s frankness, his proximity, his taste in his mouth. “I... I don't know... maybe.” He stutters. “Are you?”

Timmy stares back at him, unblinking. “Maybe. Does it matter?”

Armie feels hot all over. “Not to me. Not like... well... No.” He leans into Timmy’s touch, not wanting him to let go. “So, you did. Get fucked.” Their eyes meet. There’s a wicked twinkle in Timmy’s sea-green stare.

“What makes you think I'm a bottom?” He asks, an iron pride in his tone.

Armie's blushing an even deeper crimson. “I thought... because your age... you’re still so young... and your body... you’re so slim, so lean.” His mouth snaps shut. “Sorry, I sound like a complete idiot. I have no idea how to navigate here.”

As an answer, Timmy's climbs into Armie’s lap. He grins, boyish and a little mad.

“Oh, Armie...” Timmy shakes his head in mock devastation, looking down on his co-star, and the change of perspective throws Armie more than he would have thought possible. Timmy fixes him with a smouldering gaze. “You wanna know. How it feels like.”

It's not a question. Armie licks his lips, lets down his guard and nods. “Yes.” He breathes.

“Why don't you get your wife a strap-on? I'm sure Liz would be into pegging.” Timmy’s arse hovers just above Armie’s crotch. He’s absolutely aware what he does to Armie as he pushes his hands into his blond hair, pulling just a little.

Armie gasps. “It's not the same as I was reliably informed.”

Timmy’s eyes go a deeper shade of green as he imagines Armie getting dicked down by his slender, beautiful wife, on all fours, Liz pushing inside him...

“It isn’t.” He breathes, leaning in.

Armie responds by bucking his hips, trying to make contact with Timmy’s body above him, stretching his neck to meet Timmy’s mouth until there's almost no air left between them.

“If you want me to show you...,” Timmy says, grabbing the back of Armie’s head with surprising vigour, holding him in place. “… why don’t you just ask for it?”

Armie’s blue eyes flutter shut with a minute shake of his head.

“Come on, Armie Hammer, beg for my cock.”

That’s it. Armie moans, his mouth going slack as he surrenders to Timmy kneeling above him.

“Fuck me, Timothée.”

The following kiss is so hard it draws blood. But instead of grinding finally down, pressing his own cock against the visible bulge in Armie’s track suit pants, Timmy gets up and steps back. Armie reaches out for him, trying to grab him around the waist but Timmy elegantly sidesteps the coffee table, grinning diabolically.

“That’s not how this works.” He shakes his head. “Take your clothes off.”

Armie knows he doesn’t have to do it but it suddenly seems so very enticing to surrender to Timmy and follow his orders. It’s not how it usually goes for Armie but he’s usually not after a cock up his arse either. If he’s honest with himself, the thought of obeying Timmy turns him on immensely.

He quickly kicks his flip flops off, pulls his t-shirt over his head and stands up to drop his sweat pants. They’ve already seen each other naked during filming but this is different. Armie knows his face is burning as his cock bobs in front of him, hard and leaking, the head an almost angry red. A downy blond trail runs from below his navel to a thicket of curls between his legs. He’s suddenly aware how way more hairy he is than Timothée – a fuzzy peach compared to Timmy’s smooth skin like a nectarine. He’s the grown man in this room but he lets himself be bossed around by this boy, even gets off on it. His cock jerks at this thought but it’s too late for shame now that they’ve started this.

Armie takes his cock in hand and strokes it instead, as teasing is as good a defence as any.

It seems to work because Timmy stares down between his legs, eyes a little glassy as he licks his lips, stained copper from their frantic snogging.

“Promise me you’ll fuck me before we leave here, Armie.” He says and Armie laughs, some of his nervousness dissipating at Timmy’s horny gaze.

“Depends if I like what comes next.”

“You will.” Timmy sits down onto the coffee table and buries his face against the soft white flesh where Armie’s leg joins his groin, inhaling deeply.

“I love your scent.” Timmy sighs and Armie giggles as hot breath ghosts over his balls. “Let me see if you taste as good as you look.”

Armie anticipates – quite gleefully actually – a blow job, so he’s a little baffled when Timmy spins him around and pushes him face-forward into the couch.

“Kneel up.” He says. “Spread your legs and brace yourself against the backrest.”

Armie does as he’s told, looking down over his left shoulder as to where Timmy squats below him. When the boy pulls his buttocks apart and stares up right at his most secret place Armie is mortified.

“W-what the hell, Timmy…” Words fail him as Timmy dives in, his wet tongue licking his cleft from behind his balls up to his tailbone. “Jesus! Don’t! What are you…”

Timmy does it again, grabbing Armie’s hips as he tries to squirm away. “Shh, just let me. You’ll like it. God, you taste so good.” Timmy whispers against his pucker, his breath hitting Armie’s wet skin.

And just like that Armie's about to panic. He had no idea people did this sort of thing – or is it just Timmy, some weird turn-on this strange kid from Hell’s Kitchen has developed? Anyway, this is the filthiest stuff he’s ever encountered. The embarrassment, the shame of Timmy… licking… his arsehole… threatens to overwhelm him completely.

“Relax.” Timmy says, gently massaging his buttocks, trying to calm him down a little. “I need to get you wet and open for me.” The tip of his tongue starts again to circle Armie’s entrance and his brain short-circuits. He has to turn away, he can’t look on as Timmy laps and sucks down there but his body seems to like it as his cock is outright dripping precome onto the sofa cushions.

The desperate little noises Timmy makes indicate that he truly likes what he’s doing, so eventually, Armie allows himself to catalogue his own reactions. It feels… odd, but not unpleasant. Until Timmy probes his tight ring of muscle with his speared tongue and Armie almost jumps off the couch.

“No.” Armie shouts and Timmy stills.

“You really need to relax. If I’m going to fuck you, you have to give in. I’m sure you’ve done this to women a lot. Just take it and enjoy.”

“Not like this, not… there.” Armie protests, trying to save at least some dignity.

“Where’s the difference? Why is it okay to lick one hole but not the other?” Timmy mouths along his seam before suckling one of his testicles.

“Because… because…” Armie tries to explain, he’s sure there must be a reason his brain just mercifully withholds from him but with Timmy sucking one of his balls onto his mouth he can’t for the life of him remember what it is.

Instead, he folds, resting his head on top of the backrest of the couch and lets Timmy have his way with him.

He only moans softly when the pad of one long finger presses against his hole, massaging the tight ring of muscle.

“I’m going to get some lube. We’ll need quite a lot I guess.” Then Timmy is gone but Armie resolutely refuses to think about how he must look, naked, his legs spread, rock hard, kneeling on Timmy’s old couch, waiting to get his arse fingered – and gagging for it.

It's only a minute before Timmy returns. Armie has his eyes closed but hears him come back from his bedroom.

“Hey,” Timmy embraces him from behind, nuzzling the nape of his neck, and some of the tension leaves Armie's body. Timmy's still fully clothed in slacks and a hoodie and feeling the soft cotton scrape against his hyper-sensitive skin is an unexpected turn-on – exposing himself while the other is clearly in charge. It's new for Armie but he starts to like it. Being at the receiving end, he realizes, means getting rid of responsibilities. It's kind of liberating. Because he trusts Timmy. 

“Relax.” Timmy whispers against his skin but Armie clenches and screws his eyes shut even tighter as a slick cool finger rubs against his hole.

“I... I can't...,” he whispers, hating himself for the crack in his voice.

“We can stop if you want.” Timmy bites and nips down the curve of his shoulder.

“No. Just... be gentle.” Armie takes a deep breath.

“Of course.” Timmy says and pushes so that his finger slips inside.

It's just to the first knuckle but it still feels strange. It doesn't hurt, yet the pressure and movement down there feels odd.

Timmy stills and allows for Armie to adjust, to calm down and swallow his rising anxiety.

“Okay?”

“Y-yes.” And it is but Armie realizes with a somewhat disappointed pang that a finger up his arse does absolutely nothing for him. He sighs with relief. He will be able to handle this, call it research – hell, other actors do way extremer things to get into a role – and tomorrow they laugh about this as the silly attempt it is – HOLY SHIT!

Timmy suddenly presses all the way in and crooks his finger, rubbing somewhat hard over a bundle of nerves Armie hadn't been aware of a moment before and his whole body is on fire. As Timmy pulls almost all the way out before pushing in again, Armie literally sees stars as a wrecked moan is drawn from his throat.

“God, Timmy, that feels...”  
“Good?” Timmy's mouth is next to his left ear, his moist breath tickling its shell before he bites down, sucking the lobe into his mouth. A sharp flash of lust shoots all the way up Armie's spine, exploding in his brain stem. The base, primal arousal he feels is almost too much.

“Jesus. Fuck. Fuck, Timmy. Oh my god. Yes, there, just there...,” Armie curses as his hips start gyrating on their own account. His cock is almost purple now and dripping wet, a bead of precome connecting his slit with the corduroy upholstery. He wants to rut against the cushions but doesn't want this to end either.

Timmy prepares him tenderly, taking his time, mumbling affectionate praise into his ear when he thinks he can't take another finger – turns out he can, he's even begging for it at some point – until Timmy withdraws. Armie feels empty and groans but the movements behind him tell him that Timmy is undressing.

A blister pack is torn. Armie goes very, very still. This is it, then. Does that mean losing one's virginity? Can he call it this? Well, he lost his over fifteen years ago to a beautiful, slightly older girl with big brown eyes and long, long legs but...

“On your hands and knees, that'd be easier.” Timmy tells him, rubbing circles into the small of his back and Armie bends over and does as he's told without hesitation. 

Timmy climbs onto the couch behind him. 

A cold drop of lube hits his hole.

Timmy lines up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against Armie's entrance.

He braces himself, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath.

But instead of just pushing in Timmy says: “I'm going to fuck you now, Armie.” And Armie whimpers, outright whimpers, his whole body shaking with the need to be taken.

“Yes, please, fuck me...,” he pants under his breath and Timmy grabs his hips, stroking his thumbs over his Iliac crest as his cockhead presses in.

It's fucking big! So big. Armie gasps in shock despite the preparation. Timmy just stays there, only breaching him, and Armie can feel his muscle flutter and clench around the unfamiliar intrusion.

When Timmy pushes in a little deeper Armie grunts. It hurts. “Fuck... stop, please, stop.”

Timmy stills again and waits while Armie breathes and breathes. “I... I don't think...”

“Shhh.” Timmy shushes him, moving one hand around to stroke his cock. His erection has been somewhat flagging but he's also very sensitive due to the extensive foreplay so he shudders beneath Timmy, his breathing speeding up.

“There's no rush. I know it hurts the first time. Just try to relax for me, okay?”

“O-okay.” Armie sighs and Timmy presses in, not stopping as Armie outright yells in pain and shock until he's fully seated, his balls slapping against Armie's.

“What... fuck... argh...”

“See, you can take me, all of me. I'm inside you. And now I'm going to fuck you.”

Armie buries his face in a sofa cushion and bites down, hard, as Timmy starts to move.

It's a languid rhythm he sets, deep, rotating thrusts that have Armie on the verge of tears. But he doesn't tell him to stop because underneath the stinging burn Armie can sense something, a kind of satisfaction that he's never felt before. It's slowly creeping up on him, making his toes curl and his spine arch as Timmy speeds up.

Eventually, his hips are snapping against Armie's arse while Timmy lets out a string of filthy encouragements: “God, you are so tight, so fucking tight. This is so hot, if you could see yourself, your rim is all bright red and, god, you feel so good, so good, Armie. I love this. I could fuck you all night.”

Only that's a lie because suddenly, Timmy freezes. He slumps down over Armie's back – he's so light – and bites down on Armie's neck while the hand around Armie's cock tightens and starts to jerk him off in earnest. Armie can hear himself swear, something like “Yes, fuck, give it to me, please, god, please”, and then he shoots his load all over Timmy's fist and the couch cushions. He can feel his sphincter clench, clamping down around Timmy's cock, who starts to move, fucking him so hard he can't breath. Armie can actually feel him pulse inside his sore arse as he comes, spilling his load into the condom. Afterwards, he stays inside as his hand tugs once, twice on Armie's cock and he can't believe it, he comes again, just a few spurts this time but the bliss spreading through his body almost has him pass out.

Perhaps he did black out. Timmy has pulled out by the time he comes round again, gathered up in Timmy's arms, his head resting against Timmy's flat stomach. There's come everywhere – on his chest, his thighs, his throat, his chin – but he can't be arsed to wipe it away as Timmy draws pattern with it onto his heated skin.

His arse burns. He's sure he will feel this tomorrow. But it doesn't matter because he can't remember the last time he came this hard.

“So, that was...,” He starts but Timmy presses a comeslick finger against his lips and instead of saying exactly how it has been for him he decides it's much more worthwhile to suck that finger into his mouth and and lick it clean.

Show, don't tell, they say, and Armie suddenly understands this on a whole new level.

They shower half an hour later, Timmy gently soaping every inch of Armie's body before they both climb into Timmy's bed. Armie falls asleep almost immediately but Timmy lies awake for a long time, watching the shadows on his bedroom wall lengthen. 

He doubts that this has been very professional. 

He knows that Armie is married.

And yet he regrets nothing. Because never had he ever... thought he would get Armie Hammer on his hands and knees, begging for his cock. And if this could happen, only the sky is the limit.


End file.
